And then...: Enter the Demon
by Lilian
Summary: What happened when Cole shimmered Phoebe down to France?


** And then... **, 'Enter the Demon'.   
  
by Lilian  
  
lilian413@yahoo.com  
  
AN: Okay, next in the 'And then' series. Totally pointless fluff. Phoebe and Cole romance, and just fluffity, fluffity fluff!!.   
  
Please review!.   
  
  
***********************  
  
  
  
Phoebe had grown onto liking shimmering.   
  
The first time had been a roller coaster: the wound of Cole's betrayal still fresh and gaping, added to the spiraling sense of nothingness had sickened her to no end. She had truly been *this* close to throwing up.   
  
With time though, shimmering had become a trustful skill to have.   
  
How many times had it saved them from being caught in compromising positions?. Prue had had this nagging ability to manage to walk on them when they were on heavy make out sessions... she skipped all the petting-cuddling-kissing parts, and somehow timed her arrival to match when things progressed from PG to R and beyond.   
  
Or the wonders of shimmering in between places?. No more walking for this girl, thank you very much. It paid off sometimes... being I witch, I mean.  
  
And this time-- this time topped them all. They were in France.   
  
France, for crying out loud!.   
  
France, with the --- well, French, and all the other good stuff France has, that she couldn't quite remember right now. Probably due to the fact that Cole was pulling off his 'distract-the-enemy' technique excellently. Although *this* technique was one no Art of War could approve.   
  
The man was insatiable.   
  
Demon stamina, he said.   
  
Plain lust, she thought.   
  
But it felt good. It felt good to be loved. To be needed. Prue's departure had opened a big hole in her heart--- their quarrels, their shopping sprees, their half-admitted 'I love you's... all gone.   
  
Death had always lingered close for the Halliwell family. First Mom, then Gram's, Andy, and the million and one innocents they had been too late to save.   
  
It seemed that for every innocent they saved, three were killed. And it hurt. It hurt that even by doing their best, the scale still tilted to the other side.   
  
Phoebe had been too little to remember Mom, and too naive to mourn her death. She just hadn't believed it. It was with time that she realized she wasn't coming back.   
  
Gram's departure had come in a difficult stage in her life. She was in the middle of the transition between youth and adulthood... and she refused to cross over. She had refused to cry. She would not be weak in front of her sisters.   
  
But now--- she was older now. More mature.   
  
Cole played a major role in her recovery. Or in setting her back on the right path, anyway.   
  
"Why do I get the feeling you're spacing out on me?. Again?".   
  
His rich voice was muffled by the skin on her neck, to where his lip had promptly been attached for the last five minutes.   
  
Thank God he had chosen a vacant spot for their 'private picnic for just the two of them'. They could've been arrested already, had anyone been around to see. Public indecency and all that.  
  
"Spacing?. No, not spacing. No spacing here".   
  
Cole raised his head, and looked down on her, smiling.   
  
Gosh, that smile was made to make her knees weak and her heart melt!.   
  
"Really?".   
  
She raised her hand, and slowly caressed his stub cheek.   
  
"Promise".   
  
His eyes light up a notch, and something inside Phoebe sparkled to life. She had made him smile. It was strange how only a smile from him could make her day. She treasured the moments in which he let his guard down-- even together, Cole tended to remain to himself. Times such as these were the ones that allowed her to know the real Cole; the one hidden from sight, whom seldom came out.   
  
But boy, when he did come out and play, things got hot.   
  
He laid back, and softly dragged her with him. She cuddled unconsciously against his strong body with ease born out of practice. She drank in the sight of him: of his handsome face, and the hidden muscles which rippled under his skin. Of the five o'clock shadow in his chin, and his scorching blue eyes, which dig holes in her soul.   
  
He, on the other hand, softly traced lazy circles in the small of her back. An ancient gesture of possession--- a declaration of love.   
  
"There's something I need to tell you".   
  
His chest rose and fell as he spoke, and Phoebe leisured in the feeling of it under her cheek.   
  
"I'm listening".   
  
She kind of knew what was coming. She knew what he was going to say... but she also knew he needed to say it. And she needed to hear it too.   
  
"I'm sorry".   
  
Apologizing wasn't easy for Cole, she knew that much. Arrogance born out of decades as the best demon of all had repressed the apologizing reflex most people posses. So she remained quiet, listening to his quick heartbeat (quirk from his half-demonic side) and relaxing in his embrace.   
  
"I'm sorry for being such a jerk".   
  
She bit her lip to avoid answering. He hadn't been a jerk--- well, maybe a little.   
  
"I know I was pushing you too hard--- I just--- gosh, Phoebe I can't even stand the idea of loosing you!".   
  
His arm tightened around her, as if by hugging her hard enough, the evil threatening her would dissappear and she would be safe again.   
  
Before she could utter a response, he continued.   
  
"Phoebe, I--- I may not be here to protect you next time, and I could never live with myself if something happened to you".   
  
That got her attention.   
  
Shuffling, she rolled on her side, and over him. She ended up straddling him, her index finger against his lips. Her skirt rid up her thighs... it was that, or breaking in halves. Strange, that even clothing had a cunning ability for survival.   
  
"Shh. My turn now".   
  
Cole remained quiet.   
  
"First of all: I understand. I know how you feel, and I can't thank you enough for trusting me to protect myself. Second. Nothing will happen to me. If *I* ever fail a kick, I *know* you'll always be there to watch my back. And if you're not there, well, I won't miss the kick in the first place".   
  
A ghost of a smile made its way through his lips. Too soon, it was replaced by a frown, and a clouding in his eyes she could only name worry.   
  
"Phoebe, I-- yesterday, when you were in Paige's body--- I was scared. Scared witless. At first, I thought a demon had taken control of you. That I had lost you forever. And the thought hurt more than I could bear".  
  
"It *wasn't* a fun experience, I'll tell you that... Paige was way too skinny for my taste".   
  
He grinned again. He remembered all to well Paige's/Phoebe's new lips on his own. Different. And the way his arm had felt way to long when he encircled her--- it just hadn't felt right. And yet, in a strange, twisted way, it had.   
  
Phoebe was still Phoebe, no matter what body she was in.   
  
Paige was taller than Phoebe, by a good three inches. And the body just didn't fit. It wasn't right. But her eyes... her eyes were right. In fact, they were perfect. It seemed eyes *were* indeed the windows to the soul. As they had switched bodies, they had somehow switched eyes too... Paige's body had gained Phoebe's chocolate eyes in the process.   
  
And once again, he had drowned in them.   
  
He had enjoyed the panic in them, as he had approached her. The hesitation--- should she hug him?. Cole understood why she had kept it from him, and it had made it all the more fun. He had felt something was wrong with Phoebe when he had first come out of the basement. Something in her demeanor had changed--- he had attributed it to exhaustion.   
  
And that she was pissed at him, too.   
  
But then, as he had shimmered away, Paige had been the one to gasp. *Paige*. And only Phoebe reacted that way to his shimmering. She said it was a turn on--- why, for the love of his life he couldn't say. But hey, his woman said she liked his shimmers, who was he to argue?.   
  
And as he shimmered in between places, never lingering long enough to be detected, he thought. It was pretty much the only thing he could do. Think.   
  
And he recognized Phoebe's pull. And traced it back. And it took him to Paige. To Paige, for crying out loud.   
  
  
And things suddenly made sense. Paige's answer to his question. How she literally sucked at levitating. How she seemed--- slouched. Phoebe did not slouch. But Paige did. And her shrieks, an octave too high.   
  
"I like you better this way".   
  
His words held more meaning than one might think. It was a declaration of love, a plea for forgiveness and a giggle at the irony of the situation, all in six little words. And Phoebe understood, and nodded slowly.   
  
"I like me better this way".   
  
They nuzzled noses, apologies accepted and explanations given. Their life was way too complicated to linger in misunderstandings. Their moments alone were so few and in between, they had learnt to solve problems quickly and efficiently.   
  
"Have you ever tried making love while shimmering?".   
  
The blush in her cheeks and the sudden spark in her eyes told him she had indeed thought about it. Phoebe had a very fertile mind... more often than not, she was the one who came up with the spices for their love life, and he needed to give her something. And by the looks of it, he had chosen his present well.   
  
"Never had a boyfriend who could shimmer before...".  
  
The invitation in her voice was blatant and obvious.   
  
"Want to give it a shot?".   
  
Her toothy grin and wicked eye-glint didn't go unnoticed. With a simple stretch and a tug of her shirt, it came off her chest, displaying the strapless bra she was wearing.   
  
"Way ahead of you, buddy".  
  
Cole could never resist her. With or without her clothes on. *Specially* without her clothes on.   
  
As they shimmered away, and jumped in between realms, Phoebes voice echoed one last time.   
  
"Watch the bra, dear. You already owe me one...".   
  
  
********************  
  
  
«« The end »» 


End file.
